Aeneas
by Jarrad
Summary: The story of Aeneas, legendary founder of Rome and tragedy-ridden son of Troy. (Heavy reliance on The Aeneid, and of course, The Illiad) Chapter 8 up!
1. Prologue

> > * * *
>>
>>> > > _"I saw them die. One by one, each life ripped from its shell and sent screaming towards Hades. Blood, only blood, there was no escaping it. As far as my eyes saw, all I remember now is blood. And the fire. There was fire everywhere, dancing its victory upon the walls of my city. The invaders, barbarians and rapists, stormed through my city's gates, conducting a slaughter hitherto unknown. Through the massacre I survived. They call me Aeneas, son of Aphrodite and this is my story..."_
>>>>> 
>>>>> -**Aeneas**
>>>>> 
>>>>> * * *


	2. I

__

_'O wretched countrymen! what fury reigns?  
What more than madness has possess'd your brains?_

The Aeneid- Book II (Spoken by Laocoon)

* * *

Although she was my mother, Aphrodite did not raise me. That task was laid upon my father, Anchises. Born within the folds of the greatest city ever fashioned by human hands, I was deemed a child of prophecy upon birth. Nestled tightly in the arms of my loving mother as she handed me over to my father, I awoke to the world. Little did I know then what task lay before me.  
  
I grew up within the household of Priam. Being accepted into the family circle as if I were one of their own, I grew up alongside those whom history would never forget; Hector, Cassandra, Troilus and Helenus. From the very start they loved and cherished me. I recall a happy childhood, one of great joy and bliss. Hecuba had taken me in as her own, and till death had loved me as dear as any other son or daughter. My own mother visited often during my childhood, alone within the privacy of my chambers or out in the torch lit gardens overlooking the western quarter of Troy.  
  
Always, upon every meeting, she'd take me into her arms and kiss my eyes. Crying, she'd stroke my young face and shed more tears.  
  
"These eyes will see much, my son. My heart breaks to foresee what your eyes one day will" she'd say, holding me to her for hours on end. I remember my mother as being tall, much taller than Hecuba or even the Amazons who visited Priam. There was safety around her I cannot recall anymore. A safety I never felt again, a safety I'll never have again. Then she'd carry me to my chambers and set me down next to my sleeping father and disappear. Sometimes she'd lie down next to me and hold me until I fell asleep. But she was never there when I woke up, and soon, her visits became even more infrequent...  
  
My father, being Priam's cousin and right hand, cherished me above all else. Upon my birth he had celebrated a feast with the rest of Troy and sacrificed two of his most beloved horses to the gods. He taught me all I know and all I will perhaps need to know. Being exceptionally skilled with horses, he trained me at six to ride a horse like a professional cavalryman. He hired a tutor to teach me the wielding of a sword and soon, he oversaw my lessons in language and history. But perhaps most of all, my father taught me love. He taught me to love all man and respect all those divine.  
  
"All men have histories, Aeneas. Wives, children, parents; they all possess the ability to love. When you see your enemy before you, remember, he is neither a demon nor a beast. He is someone who loves and loves to be loved. He is a human and many are dependant on him. Be kind and devoted Aeneas, these qualities are far more useful than the wielding of a sword or the riding of a horse. In the end, you wont be remembered for how you kill, but who you kill...and with what compassion" He said, ruffling my raven locks. Taking me into his arms, he led me into the poorest quarter of Troy and into the temple of Hestia.  
  
Journeying upon my father's shoulders through Troy, I was led into the massive temple. Said to be lit be a thunderbolt from Zeus himself, the fire was soon used a hearth by the founding families of Troy. Later, Priam's father had built a temple over it and consecrated it in the name of Hestia. My father brought me here often and always had me distribute the offering amongst the poorest of the city. This time, after handing out the meat, he took me into the marketplace and bought me my first self-chosen gifts: a statue of Aphrodite and a wooden sword.  
  
We returned to the palace that afternoon and found out that a pregnant Hecuba had given birth to a beautiful son. But there wasn't any rejoicing for some odd reason. Everybody seemed sad and there were priests from the Oracle of Apollo. Hecuba was crying and Priam seemed stone faced. The babe, laid before the throne in a golden cot, played happily with a some trinket. I remember going up to the cot and looking into the eyes of the child. They were a blue both clear and pale, something akin to polished aquamarine. The child had put away its toy and was now looking intently at me. Around me, the voices of my elders seemed strained and sad.  
  
"We must dispose of the child, your majesty. What your queen saw was indeed a vision, as it was shared by the oracle" one of the priests said, his dark eyes sad.  
  
"Never!" Said Priam. "Paris will remain here with us. He is my son. How can he possibly be the downfall of this city?"  
  
"The oracle states that as long as the child lives, Troy is not safe. His very birth is a curse upon our lands. He is like carrier of a plague. A plague he will bring upon this very city. You must do something, your Majesty" It was the priest again. He had taken off his heavy cloak and was now approaching the queen. "My Queen, Tell us again. What was the dream that you saw"  
  
The queen was a pale white in a colour and was trembling. "I...cant" she forced herself to say.  
  
"You must" Came the soft reply. "The fate of every soul within Troy rests on your shoulders"  
  
Hecuba squared her shoulders and tried to look as regal as possible. Lines of worry creased her motherly face and a strange look burned within her violet eyes. The Queen of Troy was being forced to choose between her city and her son. Taking a soft step forward, the queen approached the cot and lifted the babe into her arms. She ran a pale hand through her son's golden hair and kissed his forehead, tears of sacrifice cascading down her lovely face.  
  
"I saw myself give birth to him while Troy burnt around me. I was alone, surrounded by strange men and women waiting to kill me. I heard screaming from a distance and knew the people of Troy were safe no longer. Then one of my murderers killed Paris and the flames died, as did the screaming..."  
  
Hecuba was shaking uncontrollably and the hold on the child was fierce. Kissing the forehead one last time, she looked deep into the babe's eyes and turned to hand the child to a priest. The majestic queen of Troy then shuffled out of the room, broken and defeated.  
  
That night, I remember the lament of a woman. I absently wondered why my mother did not console her... 


	3. II

_O sacred city, built by hands divine!  
O valiant heroes of the Trojan line!_

-Virgil. The Aeneid. Book II

* * *

After the passing of a few years, most of the court had forgotten the child. Even Hecuba, for whom it took years to recover, took enjoyment in the raising of her children. Frolicking in the garden during most of the hot afternoons, the children of Priam's palace swiftly began to grow into adulthood. The games of make-believe soon turned into actual sword play, while the careless chases through the serene parks grew into lengthy hours of intense physical training. In my mind's eye, the days stand out as clear and fluid, dreams of a past I cannot forget.  
  
It was a day both humid and warm. The sun bore down upon glistening Troy and made the distant Aegean seem like a sapphire jewel dotted strikingly with remote islands and Greek triremes. I stood watching the far-off waves lap against the Trojan shore wondering as to when I would finally sail into the Grecian mainland. It was a dream I secretly harboured within the depths of my desires. Few knew of my wish to sail away from Troy and settle in a far-off land. My thoughts were disturbed by the scrape of a foot beside me.  
  
"Aeneas, I knew I'd find you here"  
  
It was the delighted voice of Creusa. She placed her hands next to mine upon the wall and looked out over Troy and the sea beyond. There was a moment of silence as the two of us stood together. It was the comfortable silence of companionship, a gentle atmosphere of calm. The warm winds blowing from the south whispered through my hair and clothes, leaving droplets of sweat upon my skin. I smiled lovingly at Priam's daughter and placed my hand upon hers, letting my fingers slip in between her fingers.  
  
"Be careful, cousin. If father were to catch us, we'd certainly have a lot to answer for" her voice was crisp, like the break of dawn, yet there was a tender undertone to it. She looked quite fetching in the pastel coloured tunic she wore and her flaxen hair shone radiantly in the afternoon sun.  
  
"I love you, Creusa. I wish to ask Priam for your hand in marriage"  
  
Creusa let out a peal of mocking laughter. Pulling her hand out from underneath mine, she covered her mouth to stifle the uncontrollable giggles. I felt my irritation rise.  
  
"It's not funny, Cree"  
  
"Aeneas, you are barely seventeen years of age. Father will never permit such an early engagement" Even at fifteen, she sounded older than most women twice her age. Born after Paris and before the twins Cassandra and Helenus, Creusa took on the role of eldest daughter to heart. Even as we spoke, her eyes were constantly darting towards the Palace, looking out for her younger brothers and sisters. She stroked the length of my jaw with her fingers and lifted her face to kiss my cheek. I pulled her into my embrace and our lips met for the briefest of moments.  
  
From within the palace, the sounds of a crying child rose. Creusa managed a quick peck before she dashed into the Palace, her sandals slapping against the marble ground. I stood there quietly for a moment as the cross voice of Priam's eldest daughter rang in the heavy air.  
  
"Helenus! How many times must I stop you from pulling your sister's hair? No...stop! Give that back to her. Helenus!" The crying rose to an all out bawl before Creusa managed to get whatever it was Helenus was doing to stop. "There, there Cassandra. It's alright. Hush now. Don't cry, bad Helenus is gone now..."  
  
I smiled and shook my head. My Cree really was something else. I then turned heel and headed through the Palace towards the stables.  
  
I met Hector there grooming one of my father's stallions. Although he was only two years older, the heir to Troy's throne stood some good four inches taller than me. He had grown swiftly and looked every inch the warrior that he was. He outclassed me in just about everything the two of us did. Be it archery, swordsmanship or even horse riding, Hector always proved to be my better, regardless of circumstance.  
  
"Ready to ride, brother?" he said, tossing me a saddle.  
  
"I'm always ready. But the real question is, are you ready to ride, Hector?" There was a challenge in my voice, a challenge which hinted at mockery. Strapping the saddle to a fiery tempered mare, I leapt up onto the beast's back and nudged it forward. Beside me, Hector did the same, saddling the same horse he groomed just seconds ago.  
  
As we emerged from my father's spotlessly clean stables, a sly smile crept up across my face. Urging the beast forward, I was soon was galloping through the streets of Troy, tearing through the marketplace and heading for the towering gates. Behind me, Hector kept pace with my mare, inching closer to finally break out on my right. Flashing me a grin, he rushed past my black steed and hurtled through the gates. Not to be undone, I gave a chase, pushing my mount to sprint faster. From beyond the gates, I could hear Hector's taunting voice.  
  
"Just give up, Aeneas. Its no use" His powerful voice rang. It was followed by a good natured laugh which irked me further. Not bothering to reply, I tore past the massive gates and emerged upon the plains before Troy. Hector stood waiting for me, his grin fixed in place. The horse he rode wasn't even winded, a sign of eminent selective breeding. As my mare neared his stallion, Hector untied a flask of water and pitched it towards me. I downed the water with quick succession.  
  
"Well, what took you so long?"  
  
"It didn't take _me_ long. It took_ you_ an abnormally short time. That beast you ride is no ordinary horse" I countered, running my hand through my mare's mane. "Chloris here, on the other hand, is" Even though my father had offered me one of his prized stallions, descendants of divine steeds themselves, I declined. For some odd reason, Chloris, since her birth, had been my favourite.  
  
"Very well then, cousin. Shall we go?" Hector asked. It was clear he wished to change the subject. Hector always had been somewhat of a fair player. To accuse him of cheating would be to hurt his honour, one of the many things he valued above all else. Urging his stallion forward Hector spurred the mount into a slow gait, heading for mount Ida. I followed silently, letting the serenity of this hot summer's day to the talking for both of us.  
  
The plain before Troy was vast and stark. Little vegetation grew upon it, giving it the appearance of a dry desert, leading to the mighty Aegean in the west. As we trotted to the banks of the Skamandros, the scenery began to change markedly. The mighty river, sourcing beyond mount Ida, ran swiftly through the dry plains, leaving lush vegetation and arable land in its wake. This was where Troy's food came from. Both banks of the river were dotted with farms built to provide food for the growing host of Trojan mouths.  
  
As Hector rode through, he was waved at by the farmers, sweating in the fields trying to reap the bountiful autumn harvest. Many invited the young prince inside to dine and share a few drinks. These offers Hector declined, but he promised to visit again sometime soon just to feast with the farmers.  
  
As we rode past one final farming village, a young teenager ran towards us from the river.  
  
"Princes!" He shouted, clearly out of breath. "Something's happened!"  
  
Hector slipped off his saddle and I followed suit. Nearing the child, Hector knelt to place a strong hand upon that frail shoulder and comforted the frightened teen.  
  
"What happened?" He asked, as I towered above the two.  
  
Tears were streaking down the child's dust marked face and his whole body was quivering.  
  
"Prince Hector. My father rode out yesterday with men from the village to meet a group of mercenaries from the Hittite lands. They spoke of fighting and defending the harvest. Today the mercenaries sent the severed head of our village elder demanding we either hand over the food and women tonight, or face pillaging" The boy sobbed through his words. His eyes were wide with fright, and for a moment I pitied him. Then I realised I should have pitied myself.  
  
"Where is this mercenary camp?"  
  
The child taught for a moment. "At the base of Mount Ida, near the City of Thebe, where the river meets the mountain. It's not very hard to miss"  
  
Hector patted the teen's head and rose, there was a fire in his pale eyes; a fire I knew all too well.  
  
"We'll take care of those mercenaries. You just go tell that to your village. Come, Aeneas" His voice carried authority, and soon the young boy was sprinting towards the far village. I suddenly snapped to attention.  
  
"Wait. You cant be serious!" I sputtered.  
  
"I am serious, cousin" he replied, launching himself onto his horse.  
  
"Shouldn't we go get some soldiers from Troy?" I asked as I sat down in my saddle.  
  
"Are you afraid, Aeneas?" he stopped to ask.  
  
"No. But, being afraid is one thing, being stupid is another. Why cant we just-"  
  
"By then, brother, it would be too late. I know Hittites. They'll attack as soon as possible. We don't have much time. Either you come with me, or I go alone" With that said, he nudged his horse into a mad sprint, soon he was heading along the north bank of the river towards Mount Ida.  
  
I sighed deeply and followed suit. I absently wondered if I'd survive long enough to see my Cree tonight... 


	4. III

> > > _Think you these tears, this pompous train of woe,  
Are known or valued by the ghosts below?_  
  
-Virgil. The Aeneid. Book IV
>>> 
>>> * * *
>>> 
>>> The foliage began to grow steadily more dense as the two of us galloped through the countryside leading up to mount Ida. In the cool shadows of towering cypresses we rode, shielded from the intense heat of the overhead sun. Before us, jutting out like domed spire, Mount Ida rose majestically through the Mediterranean forest. I was told once that Ida was where Rhea hid Zeus from the terrible wrath of Cronus. It was the favourite mountain of the thunder god and Zeus himself guaranteed sanctuary to all those who sought solace upon its lush summit. I was told that mount Ida was the peak from which the gods looked over Troy. But perhaps most importantly, it was foretold that from Mount Ida, Troy's destiny would emerge.  
  
It took us a while to traverse the length of the river Skamandros and throughout our entire journey Hector remained reserved. Stopping once to let the horses drink and rest, he wandered out into the forest alone, returning just as abruptly to announce that we should continue our journey. I shrugged absently and followed. I knew we were walking towards possible death and yet I still followed. It was not in me to let Hector face an enemy alone. Going back to Troy knowing he faced an adversary seemed so unfathomable at the time.  
  
Soon, as the sun began to dip towards the horizon, we spotted the white washed walls of Thebe. The old city had been constructed upon a conjunction where the mighty Skamandros split into its tributaries. Thebe was ruled by a wise prince seeking to further his city's relationship with Troy and thus, the two cities were growing closer. Nestled tightly between the rivers and the forests of Mount Ida, Thebe shimmered brightly in the distance as the two of us crested the final hill. Leading my horse next to Hector's, I slipped off the saddle and took in the fresh scent of the late afternoon air.  
  
"Do you think Agenar knows about the mercenaries?" I asked. Agenar, prince of Thebe and distant relative to Priam was cunning and cold. It wouldn't surprise me if he had given sanctuary to the Hittites.  
  
Hector mused over the question for a while. Sliding off his saddle, the young prince came to stand beside me.  
  
"I don't know. But regardless, those mercenaries killed Trojan citizens. Their judgement rests with Trojan authorities, not Agenar" He said, looking out over the bright city.  
  
"By Trojan authorities you mean us, right?" I ventured to ask.  
  
"Yes, Aeneas. Us"  
  
I looked past the city and into the mighty forest surrounding the base of mount Ida. The Hittite mercenaries had set up camp somewhere there and, being Hittites and mercenaries, the culprits we sought wouldn't be too hard to find. Hector was climbing onto his saddle once again, his cold eyes still expressionless.  
  
"We make for the billows of smoke emitting from the forest" He said squinting in the distance.  
  
I squinted too and saw the traces of smoke meander their way through the warm air. Like climbing snakes, they twisted their way through the trees and gave exact directions to the clearing in which the mercenaries rested. Reckless, and careless. Even if Thebe was founded by Hittite settlers hundreds of years ago, private armies had little right to invade neighbouring towns. And doing it so openly brought carelessness to a whole new level. Kicking into his saddle, Hector thundered down the gentle slope, heading directly for the forest. I smiled ruefully. It was now or never.  
  
We rose past Thebe and headed deep into the quiet forest, the wisps of smoke acting as our guides. Hector led and I tailed behind. It was something we did by pure instinct. Even as children, walking the streets of Troy, the two of us fell into a pattern where fearless, courageous Hector led and faithful, cautious Aeneas followed. He'd get us into trouble, and I'd willingly admit to the guilt. I cannot recall once where I had let Hector take all the blame-even if I was totally innocent. It was a kind a of betrayal, and there was something rank and sour about betrayal, something I could never bring myself to do.  
  
I was snapped back to the present as Hector slowed down enough to let me catch-up. His face was hard and his eyebrows were narrowed thoughtfully. Placing a hand upon my shoulder, my greatest friend smiled sadly.  
  
"Aeneas, my brother. This is our first battle together, and we're alone. The men we face are battle hardened warriors and there is a chance we might not survive. I know you did not wish to join me so I thank you. It takes courage to fight another man's war, especially if you do not believe in its cause. You can still turn around now, I won't hold it against you..."  
  
"I cannot turn around now. To do so would be to turn my back on a friend. And you know I can't so that. So, I'll watch your back, and you watch mine. We'll be fine. No Hittite on earth can match skills with those of Troy's finest" I grinned and nudged my horse forward. True, I did not want to be here, but I did not want to be anywhere else. And anyways, how many mercenaries could there possibly be?  
  
As we neared the scent of cooking meat and animal ranker, the thought of killing men seemed to grow upon me. It was a vile thought, one of little pleasure. I did not understand then how heroes were heroes because they killed people. It all seemed to cold-blooded to me. During my thoughts, Hector had once again taken the lead and now we rode with careful concentration. Soon the sounds of quarrelling men and rowdy singing seemed to envelope the area around us. One voice in particular rose above the others.  
  
"C'mon you rotten lot, get up! This is no time to get drunk or bawdy. We'll 'ave plenty of that when we get them women and food. The Trojan villagers are probably waitin'!"  
  
His voice seemed to fall on deaf ears as after a few more curses and squabbles, the voice seemed to die down and things began to return to normal. In front of me, Hector was smiling.  
  
"They're drunk" he remarked. "The idiots are drunk!" he almost laughed out loud. So not were these mercenaries dumb, stupid and ruthless, now they were drunk too. And drunk men with full bellies never really fought well, if sources were to be believed. I was grinning too and all thoughts of slaughter began to fade away.  
  
Hector had drawn his sword and I did the same. The camp was now before us and we both could tally the number of men. As I had expected, there weren't a lot of them; thirty at the most. Half of them were drinking and swapping tall tales while the other half seemed to be doing chores. A small portion of them were armed. It was this portion we head to concentrate on.  
  
Hector stopped and turned to face me, the fire in his pale eyes burning with intense rage.  
  
"Don't get off your horse. We'll make sweeping raids and disable the armed ones. Never stop to make sure the enemy is dead, just keep riding and slashing. If one of us falls, the other with collect him and run off. Remember, don't stop until every single man is lying on the ground. Got it?"  
  
I nodded and looked forward.  
  
"And Aeneas, stop clenching your sword like that. Let it loose"  
  
I looked sharply at him. "Thanks"  
  
"On my word..."  
  
He tensed and for a moment all eternity seemed to stand still. Then his voice cut through the quiet and sent me galloping into the clearing.  
  
"....now!"  
  
Suddenly, everything became a blur as the two of us thundered into the enemy camp. Our enemies, men barely understanding the enormity of what was going on, seemed perplexed as our swords came down upon them. The first man I killed, tall and massive, shrieked wildly as my blade cleft his cheek and sliced through the upper portion of his skull. A spray of blood erupted and soon, I was bathing in a shower of crimson. Drawing my sword clear, I continued to deftly move through the camp, slicing and hacking away at mostly unarmed men.  
  
Hector was doing even better. The master horseman had already disabled most of the armed guards and was swiftly working his way through the bellies of three drunken swordsmen. I tried hard no to retch as the foul smell of blood and guts swamped around me. From the corner of my eye I saw a man, sword in hand, charge me from behind. Spinning Chloris around, I turned to face the vile foe.  
  
The red haired man was covered in leather armour and seemed to be carrying a massive scimitar. This he pointed in my direction and bellowed.  
  
"Son of a Trojan whore! Face me like a man, if ye dares!"  
  
His voice, strong and authoritative, washed over me. Even Hector stopped for a brief second to look at me. My friend's eyes seemed wild and suddenly alarmed.  
  
"No, Aeneas!" he yelled as his sword imbedded itself into a Hittite chest. "Don't do it!"  
  
I looked at him with a cheerless smile. The red haired man had challenged me. To kill him riding upon a horse would be dishonourable and would give me the definite advantage. But on the ground, I knew I was an inferior swordsman, one he could easily kill.  
  
I slipped off my horse and came to stand before him. All around me, the battle had grown quiet and all eyes were upon us. The red head sneered and banged his scimitar against his iron shield. I continued walking towards him. He wore the finest armour in the camp and clearly, by the way everyone was silent, he was their leader.  
  
"If I beat you" I began. "Your men will leave these lands never to return. No more blood shall fall upon Trojan soil. Am I clear?" I was surprised by the authority in my voice. I never realised how potent my vocal skills could be.  
  
The hulking Hittite scoffed his reply. "I make no deals in battle, swine. Get ready pig, by tonight my dogs will be feeding on your throat" He concluded with a piercing battle cry and charged towards me, his colossal form tearing across the clearing. I stood my ground and brought my sword to the ready. His size belied his nimble movements and soon, the towering brute stood over me, his sword arcing down towards my head.  
  
I leapt a few paces back as the sword harmlessly passed before me. Thrusting with my own blade, I stepped to my right then cut in left to deliver a near fatal stab at the Hittite's armoured belly. The leather held and all my attack managed to accomplish was to prick my opponent's skin. He roared in anger and elbowed my chest, hurling me backwards and onto the ground.  
  
I rose swiftly and turned to face his charging attack once again. This time, as he bore down upon me, I parried his thrust and side-stepped to provide a deep cut into his muscular thigh. The Hittite screamed in pain. My small victory was to be short lived as the Hittite rounded to stab backwards, cutting across my leather armour and nicking the skin between my unprotected sides. I groaned and fell back, moving away from my wounded enemy and struggling to catch my breath.  
  
"Give it up, dog!" My opponent wheezed, staggering towards me. He was smiling once again and there was murder in his eyes. Towering over me as I tried to ignore the wound, he brought his sword up. Taking this opportunity, I spun around him and stabbed my sword into the back of his throat. My surprised enemy immediately fell to his knees and gurgled on his own blood. Falling face first onto the ground, the massive mercenary died chocking in his own blood. I fell to my knees and clasped my arm around my injury. Clenching my teeth in pain, I brandished my sword and showed it to the Hittites.  
  
"Collect his body and leave" I said, rising shakily to my feet. "Honour the rules of engagement and give him a proper burial"  
  
Walking back to my horse, I painfully mounted the mare and rode towards a silent Hector. He was still poised to attack but it was clear that the battle was over. The remaining few men, around seven in total, began to move amongst their comrades checking the wounded and preparing for the return journey. Hector called out to them.  
  
"I give you tonight to leave. By tomorrow, I will send a legion of Trojan soldiers to comb these areas. If anyone of you Hittite mercenaries lingers, he can consider himself dead. I wish to see you as far away from Troy as possible" With that said, Hector gave me a fleeting glance and rode off. Being too exhausted and in too much pain to feel angry, I rode after him.  
  
It was not until we safely passed the forest and glittering Thebe that Hector turned to vent his rage upon me.  
  
"You think yourself a hero, Aeneas?!" He shouted, pulling his horse before mine. "You could have been killed!"  
  
"Hector I-"  
  
"I specifically told you not to dismount and you went ahead and disobeyed my orders. What more, you faced off against what could potentially have been a better adversary even when I tried to stop you"  
  
"He challenged me!" I shouted back, outraged. "You want me to betray all my codes of ethics and unfairly kill a man who challenged me? It was a matter of honour and I didn't mean to disrespect your orders"  
  
Hector paused and looked at me, still clearly fuming.  
  
"It wasn't a matter of honour, brother. Did those men have honour when they killed unarmed farmers? Honour is used by men as an excuse to justify an action or as a convenience to mask one. Do not fall into that tap, Aeneas. Stay devoted to things you can touch and feel, not some notion of reputation you aspire to achieve" With that said he slipped off his horse and bade me to do the same. "Now, lets get that wound fixed"  
  
As he pulled off my thin leather vest, I winced in pain. The wound had been cut around my armour's strings and a few latches were imbedded in the festering wound. I almost screamed as the vest was ripped off. Hector closed in to examine the wound.  
  
"We better get to Troy before the wound grows septic. The healers will be able to do something then" Taking a strip of cloth torn from my cotton toga, he tied it tightly around the cut and helped me back onto my horse. Straddling his own stallion, Hector turned to me once again.  
  
"Even though you disobeyed me and almost got yourself killed, I'm proud of you, Aeneas. You showed real courage back there..."  
  
I smiled weakly and nudged Chloris into a slow trot.


	5. IV

_Hard and unjust indeed, for men to draw _  
_Their native air, nor take a foreign law! _  
Virgil. The Aeneid. Book X

* * *

I recall little of our return journey to Troy. As we rode slowly through the Trojan countryside, Hector was lost in thought and I had been struggling to stay conscious. The night was silent and cool, much like most nights around the peaceful Aegean and a slight wind was blowing through my hair. Stopping at the river twice to rest and dress my wounds, we made very little conversation and were mostly occupied by our own thoughts. I was recovering swiftly and the wound had already begun to heal. Something told me external forces were at play, my mother perhaps.  
  
Continuing our ride, the two of us crested one final hill before the brilliance of Troy was laid before us. The city stood shimmering before us like a beacon of light radiating power and wealth. Far more populous than Mycenae or even Athens, Troy had become the paragon of the Aegean. Built ages ago by the hands of Apollo and Poseidon themselves, the city walls towered thirty feet into the air. Meticulous planning and immeasurable wealth created a flawless interior ripe with temples, palaces and gardens. Even the Babylonians had stared in awe when presented before Priam's palace.  
  
This was Troy, my Troy. The Jewel of the Aegean.  
  
As we entered the city of kings, I was ushered towards the temple of Asclepius, God of medicine and healing. There, my wounds were checked and covered with a fresh layer of poultice and I was given an herbal broth to drink. The healers then pronounced me fit enough to return to the palace the next morning. Laid down upon a fresh bed, I was left in a private room to heal.

* * *

"Aeneas" The voice called to me. It was soft and silvery, like rain, and a gentle light had flowed into my room. From this light, my mother, in all her brilliance, stepped out next to my cot. Sitting down next to where I lay, she smiled warmly and kissed my brow. I felt a heat caress my forehead and all the day's tension and pain drifted away.  
  
"How are you, my cherished one?" she asked, as my eyes fluttered open.  
  
I let a wry smile cross my face. "Did you heal me, mother?"  
  
"The wound would have grown gangrenous and you'd have passed out from the pain, my dearest. I, like any mother, cannot see my child in pain" she said. "I did it while you were fading in and out of consciousness"  
  
"Why could I have not seen you then?" My tone was reserved, almost irritated.  
  
"Oh, Aeneas. I do love you, but you must put these irritations aside. I healed you because it was in your best interest. And do not dwell on that thought. I did not help you during your fight. I could have, but I didn't. There will be time for that later"  
  
"Later?"  
  
She kissed my brow once again and in turn, kissed my lids close. "Goodnight, my treasured"

* * *

Creusa was the first to see me the next day. Although I still felt weak, the wound had healed completely and only a purple scar remained where a sword had once cleaved me. She brought me fresh clothes and a pendant made of fiery choral. Placing it around my neck, Creusa placed a gentle hand upon my scar and sighed.  
  
"For bravery and courage, my love" She said, helping me to my feet. Stringing the silver chain around my neck, she kissed me deeply as we embraced. The softness of her lips and her slender form in my arms pushed away all weakness I had previously felt. Pulling away from my lips, she laid her head upon my chest and sighed.  
  
"Hector told me what had happened. I couldn't bare to be away from you any longer so I pleaded with father to let me come collect you" she said, whispering the words.  
  
"And I am glad for it, Cree"  
  
I twirled a lock of her golden hair and picked up the slight scent of wild flower. The pendant she had placed around my neck felt awkward and heavy. The cunningly crafted sea stone, shaped into a pillared temple, felt cold and leaden.  
  
Taking my hand into hers, Creusa gently led me from my chambers into the wide expanse of the temple's interior. The golden hall, shining with offerings from patients healed by the medicine god, glowed dimly in the morning light. I was still dressed in only a plain kilt and Creusa, seeing my discomfort at being bare-chested, placed a light robe around my shoulders. Guiding me towards the altar of Asclepius, Creusa knelt next to me as we both supplicated our thanks for my healing. After the rituals were finished and I had promised to bring offerings, Creusa slipped her fingers into my hand and took me outside.  
  
"Everyone is anxious for your return. They all seem to think you have a marvellous tale to tell" She said, leading me to the chariot. Her voice was even and I caught faint hints of bitterness. Was Cree upset?  
  
"What's wrong Cree?" I asked as we sat down and the charioteer bade the horses to trot.  
  
She looked at me evenly and then turned to look away. Placing a gentle hand under her chin, I tilted that beautiful face towards me and asked again.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Nothing, Aeneas" She replied coolly. "It's just that...somehow...I feared for you even as Hector told the story. I knew you were healing, yet every time Hector motioned you getting hurt, I wanted to jump off my chair and run towards you. I fear for you Aeneas, even when I do not know of your peril. Promise me you'll never blindly rush into combat without prior knowledge of your opponent..."  
  
"I cannot do that, Cree. I fight for Troy, for you. How can I stay safe knowing our enemies might hurt you next?"  
  
"I'm safe Aeneas. Our walls are unassailable and protected by Zeus himself. Troy will last forever..."  
  
We arrived at the palace to a warm reception by Hecuba and her many children. Hector stood before all of them, ready to greet me as if I were a hero just returning from a victorious battle. He was all smiles and beside him, holding his powerful hand, lingered Cassandra. She too was smiling broadly. It was she who ran up to me first and leapt into my arms. Kissing me on the cheek, Priam's beautiful daughter whispered prophetic words into my ear.  
  
"Seven hills, Aeneas. I see seven hills"  
  
She slipped out of my grasp and scampered back towards Hector. I stood puzzled, yet put Cassandra's words aside. Striding forth, I clasped Hector's forearm in a hearty greeting and the two of us hugged.  
  
"You're a fast healer, goddess-born. That wound should have taken weeks" Hector remarked, grinning.  
  
"I had some help"  
  
Shrugging my shoulders, I moved past him and met each member of the growing family in turn. Beside me, matching my every step like a silent ghost, Creusa walked. Often she would take my hand and pet it gently. It was heartening to know she was with me.  
  
Hecuba's family met me as if I were returning from a decade old journey to some distant part of the world. The closeness and warmth each member radiated was both infectious and admirable. It also told me how I was a part of them and how close we really were. Each member's pain was felt and each member's triumph was celebrated. It would break the family if even one was lost. At the time, I could not imagine a single catastrophe which could break the bond we shared.  
  
I was led into the heart of the palace, into Priam's throne room where the aging king sat. His beard, slowly growing grey, spoke of pride and peace. The way his shoulders arched indicated a honour only the king of kings could reserve. As I entered, his dark eyes followed me. Priam was a tall man, almost as tall as Hector, yet his slender form hid unmistakable strength and dignity. Ever since I was young, I was deathly afraid of the king and even then, at seventeen, I remember being in awe of his presence.  
  
"My king" I bowed.  
  
"Aeneas" His hollow voice resounded through the massive room. "We see your wounds aren't as grave as we previously thought"  
  
I did not know how to reply to his comment. If anything, Priam was the only one in all of Troy who regarded me with cold detachment. The king never saw me as a son. A cousin, yes, but no more. I was an insignificant wheel in the carriage of Troy. I do not doubt that he loved me, yet at times, I did not know what he thought of me. We did not share a bond, a relationship. He was Priam, king of Troy and I was Aeneas, Anchises' son.  
  
"Since Hector has already briefed us with the story, Aeneas, you may leave to rest" he added, eyes flickering towards the exit. I humbly bowed and left, followed by a good portion of Priam's family.

* * *

I broke off from the departing group and wandered deep into the palace alone. Nearing the ancient temple of Zeus, I found my father seated upon a marble bench, examining his lame leg. Seated under a cypress tree next to the steps that led up into the temple, my father seemed to be growing older before my eyes. In that moment I felt an overpowering love for the old man. A love I did not understand at the time.  
  
"Father?"  
  
Anchises looked up and gave me a bright smile.  
  
"How does my Trojan hero feel?" he asked, rising to his feet. Limping over to where I stood, my father pulled me into his embrace and patted my back heartily. "I am so proud of you. It is not everyday a father sees his son return victorious from battle"  
  
"It was no more than a skirmish, father. And besides, I did not want to go. It was Hector who forced me to tag along"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous, son. There are only a few people in the world who actually live to fight. Men like you and I would avoid fighting if it were possible. Yet it does not dull our accomplishments either way. Whether you look for a fight, or fight to avoid one, it is what you accomplish in the end that matters. Hector tells me how you brought down that Hittite scum with dignity, and I was so proud. Not because you killed him, Aeneas. But because you offered him the chance to live. You were honourable and gracious, and you did not defile your opponent's corpse"  
  
Though they encouraged me, my father's words could not stifle the disgust I felt at dispatching human life. Right or wrong, killing a man was murder; something I had just taken part in. Somehow, I felt unclean because of the act. I did not want to fight anymore. It wasn't something I enjoyed.  
  
My father saw my discomfort and smiling knowingly.  
  
"Come with me Aeneas" he called, moving into the temple.  
  
I obeyed and followed the old man into the holy sanctuary. He led me past the rectangular pool towards the gigantic statue of Zeus himself. The ancient god, wreathed in gold and silver, sat proudly upon his divine throne, looking down kindly at the two of us. Built upon the highest peak within Priam's palace, this elevated temple could be seen from almost all corners of Troy. In retrospect, all of Troy could be seen from the temple's peak.  
  
My father brought me before the god and looked at me.  
  
"I know you hate to fight Aeneas, but what choice do you have when an adversary faces you?"  
  
I looked away from my father. His piercing grey eyes always looked deep into my soul, and often put me to shame.  
  
"I killed a man yesterday, father. I do not want to do it again"  
  
"I see the trouble in your soul, my son. I see it rotting away at your core. But in this world of ours, its either you kill or are killed. When what you love comes under threat, will you not rise to defend it then?...Aeneas?"  
  
I nodded, still looking away.  
  
"Then clear your conscience. The man you killed was a murderer and savage. He came into the fight knowing death. Also, make clear your intentions. Never fight unless you have to. And never fight unless it is in defence of those you love"

"How will I know when that time is, father?" I asked, finally looking at him.  
  
"You'll know, Aeneas. You'll know"


	6. V

_And thrice about her neck my arms I flung, _  
_And, thrice deceiv'd, on vain embraces hung. _  
-Virgil. The Aeneid. Book II

* * *

I pushed open the door to my father's chambers, slipping through the slight crack. The soft sounds of snoring coming from my father's bed brought a slight smile to my face as I walked silently across the marble floors towards Anchises' cot.  
  
"Father" I whispered.  
  
The snoring abruptly stopped and my father awoke, rubbing his tired eyes.  
  
"Aeneas? What's wrong? Is everything ok?"  
  
"Yes, father. Everything is alright. I just wanted to see you"  
  
"At this absurd hour? Aeneas its been hours since sunset..."  
  
"I know, but it cannot wait any longer"  
  
My father sat up upon his bed using me for support. In the flickering light of his luxurious chambers, I could see the traces of what had once been Aphrodite's lover. I also saw a glimmer of myself in my father's slender form. The powerful jaw line and what had once been raven hair were very reminiscent of myself. From the wide balcony, the drapes were billowing as the fresh ocean breeze swept through the room, covering it in a restful cool.  
  
"Ok, Aeneas. What is it?" he sounded comfortable. I had expected my father to be slightly irritated but the old man was far from it. The tone of his voice seemed genuinely interested.  
  
I took a deep breath. For hours I had been practising, restless in bed, not knowing exactly how to win my father's approval. Sleepless for the past few nights, I had lain in bed, excited and dreading what was to come next. It had been four years since the skirmish near Thebe and a lot had changed. Most of it for the worse. My father's health had been failing and mother had not visited since that night at the temple. But most heartbreaking of all, Priam had decided to marry Creusa off to a suitor named Diomedes in Calydon.  
  
Creusa was furious and had turned her wrath on me. Dutiful to her father, my love had accepted Priam's wish and spurned me for months. She was angry at my inability to confront her father and ask for her hand in marriage. Now, at nineteen, she was finer than she had ever been and my heart broke every time my eyes gazed upon her loveliness. She too was heartbroken over her engagement and refused to even see me.  
  
I could not bear my heartache anymore, so I had come to my father at last, seeking his help.  
  
"Aeneas?" My father called softly for I had been lost in my thoughts. Turning to the old man, I lay my head upon his shoulder and shed a tear.  
  
"My son, why are you crying? What happened?"  
  
"Father...I love Creusa"  
  
For one sudden moment, everything went deadly silent. I could feel my father comprehend the weight of my words and I felt him stiffen. His wrinkled hands, calloused by many years as a warrior, trembled as they ran through my hair.  
  
"Aeneas. Do you even know what you're-"  
  
I pulled away from my father and looked intently into his eyes. I, too was trembling and the tears had refused to stop flowing.  
  
"Father, I cannot bear to see her married to someone else. We've loved each other for years and suddenly it seems we'll be torn apart. Please father, I need Creusa. You've got to help me!"  
  
"Why did you not tell me before, Aeneas? We could have done something..."  
  
"I...I did not know what to do. I feared Priam rejecting my proposal and you father, I worried that you would say no..."  
  
My father did not reply. He simply rubbed his temples, thinking. Head bowed, he shook his head a few times, not believing my words. There was a long silence before either of us spoke up. In this silence we both understood the significance of my love and its impact upon the future of Troy.  
  
"Aeneas, I love you more than life itself, yet I cannot ask Priam for Creusa's hand in marriage on your behalf. There is nothing I can do. This marriage is not simply a union of two people, it is Priam's chance to settle relations with the Hellenes. You know how important it is for the king to make alliances, Aeneas. I cannot interfere"  
  
I looked at my father, broken. Something deep inside me had died. Hope, a wish for love had been denied and I cursed myself for being the Aphrodite's son. My love had spurned me for her father's wish and now, my father refused to help me. Everything had suddenly lost meaning and I felt terribly alone. I slipped off my father's bed and headed towards the door, Anchises silently watching me depart. He did not say anything, for there wasn't anything to say.  
  
"I'm sorry I disappointed you father. I did not choose to love her, it just happened. I was a coward and now I must pay the price for my cowardice"  
  
With that said, I strode outside my father's chambers and headed for the sanctuary of my own room. My mind had accepted defeat, yet my heart still beat with Creusa's love.

* * *

It was a bitter irony I faced. Love's child denied the greatest love of all. It was something stories were made of, this mockery of my parentage. As I entered my desolate room, I found little comfort in flickering torches of my humid room. Heading for the balcony, from the where the sweet scent of the sea brought calm breezes, I stood silently, looking out over the crystal Aegean.  
  
I sniffed noisily and wiped my nose, the tears dripping from eyes. My jaw felt slack and there was a weakness in my knees. I was on the edge of heartache and the terror of reality had just hit. Creusa was lost to me and all I could do was watch, broken and defeated. I buried my head into my hands and wept in bitter pain.  
  
I did not understand it at first, but it was then I had realised why they called it heartache. My chest felt heavy and breathing was difficult. Like a lead weight, my core felt dead and cold. It did not burn with love as it once did, but suffered the grief of being torn. My lips, trembling with the urge to cry out, longed for the sweet caress of Creusa.  
  
I stood upon my balcony for hours, looking out over the Aegean, shedding tears. It wasn't until the sun broke the eastern horizon that I realised how much time had passed me by. Retreating into my chambers, I Fell upon my bed, exhausted. I soon fell into a troubled sleep, tossing upon my cot as the nightmares woke me periodically.

* * *

"What's troubling you, Aeneas?"  
  
The stones skimmed the river's placid surface, jetting from one bank to the other. The two of us, Hector and I, stood upon the river's side, tossing smooth-sided stones across the water. The day was a peaceful one, bright and sunny. The leaves were rustling in the trees and birds were chirping happily in the trees. It would have been the perfect day, one I would have relished, had my heart not been shrouded in gloom.  
  
"Nothing's wrong, Hector"  
  
Hector paused to look at me.  
  
"I know you far too well to believe in that lie you just told. Just tell me, what's wrong?"  
  
I sighed and sat down upon a rock. Letting my feet waddle in the running stream, I looked into the distance towards Troy. Hector came and sat down next to me. His eyes seemed genuinely concerned. For days he had worriedly noted my slow decline. I had stopped eating and looked dishevelled, my strength waning. He noted how I did not take interest in our escapades and how I could not swordplay without soon losing interest or conceding to weariness .  
  
"Hector, I...I cannot tell you. You'll think lowly of me"  
  
The heir to Troy's throne let out a slight chuckle.  
  
"I don't think I ever can look upon you lowly, brother. Now stop the suspense and tell me"  
  
I looked up at him.  
  
"It's Creusa. We love each other"  
  
As with my father, there was a long pause as Hector understood the weight of my words. Flicking a few more stones across the water, it took a while before he responded.  
  
"It doesn't come as much of a surprise, Aeneas. I think most, if not everyone, understood what was going on between the two of you. Most thought it was mere childhood infatuation. But it really wasn't, was it?"  
  
"No. I love her with every breath I take"  
  
"And I think you understand the implications of what might happen if Diomedes were to be rejected now"  
  
"I do"  
  
The proud Grecian warrior had exclusively travelled to Troy months before, requesting Creusa's hand in marriage. He had fallen for her beauty at first sight during Priam's visit to Greece over a year ago and wanted her as a wife ever since. Upon his arrival, he had showered the aging king with gifts in abundance and had promised a solid alliance with Ilium.  
  
"So have you given up, Aeneas?"  
  
Hector's question rung like a bell in the moment of silence that followed.  
  
"What else can I do? I cannot possibly ask Priam now. He'll throw me out of the city and my father's name will forever be tarnished. Yet I also love Creusa and cannot envision a life without her. I cannot risk Troy's fate and do not wish two cities to quarrel over a petty love affair. I do not know what to do, Hector. It's all just tearing me apart"  
  
Hector sighed and looked contemplative.  
  
"Listen, Aeneas. I cannot see you killing yourself like this. Either you talk to father or forever hold your peace. If, as you say, Creusa loves you, then she is probably hurting as bad as you are. You two need to do something. And you, Aphrodite's son! How can you give up on love, of all people!?"  
  
I slipped off the smooth rock and wadded into the river, my eyes beginning to water.  
  
"I need your help, Hector. I need you to tell me what to do..."  
  
Hector followed me and came to stand on my side, the river flowing around us. The sun had been covered by a dark cloud and suddenly everything on the bright river became dull and cool.  
  
"I'll talk to father"  
  
"But that could jeopardise your relationship with this king"  
  
"Aeneas, if you're going to nit pick, then this whole situation is unworthy of communication. Either we talk to father together, or you and Creusa suffer..."  
  
I looked up at Hector and realised in that moment what a friend I had been blessed with. With him at my side, I felt empowered enough to take on the world. It gladdened me to know he was there to cover me in my moment of need. I secretly vowed to help him whenever he needed it, even if it meant sacrificing life itself.

* * *

The King of Troy was seated regally upon a sofa, taking his afternoon meal upon the mosaic terraces of the Palace. Attended by scores of his servants, some fanning him, some awaiting his orders, he smiled as the two of us approached.  
  
"Ah, Hector. My heart grows delighted every time you are near"  
  
Hector and I both kneeled before the king, or heads bowed.  
  
"Tell me, child. What do you dire of me today?"  
  
Priam gazed fondly upon his son, only noting my presence momentarily. Hector, who rose to his feet, grabbed me by the shoulders and thrust me before the king.  
  
"Father, it is Aeneas who wishes to see you today"  
  
Priam's eyes turned to me, his face suddenly bored.  
  
"Oh...well, what is it, Aeneas?"  
  
"My king...I...I've come to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage"  
  
The old king's eyebrows shot into his receding hairline. Clearly he wasn't expecting my words. His bored expression changed into one of surprise as he leaned forward, a smug smile playing upon his lips.  
  
"Well, well, Aeneas. We'll see about that. Which one is it, then?"  
  
"Creusa, my king"  
  
There was a deafening silence before the thundering voice of Priam rang over the hush silence.  
  
"WHAT!? Is this some sort of prank, Aeneas? Are you testing whatever patience I have with you?" "No my king. We love each other"  
  
"WE!? Are you implying Creusa feels the same way?"  
  
Priam had risen from his sofa in a terrible wrath. Standing over me as I knelt before him, the enraged king towered over my trembling form as I nodded my reply. His knuckles, white with fury, were quivering with the desire to be rammed into my skull.  
  
"CREUSA! Creusa! I demand your presence before me!"  
  
From the many pillared hallways of the palace, the slapping of sandals resounded, as the eldest daughter of Priam emerged from the shadows. Spotting me kneeling before the angered king, she covered her mouth in terror. Cautiously stepping forward, Creusa neared the two of us, her luminous eyes wide with fright.  
  
"Ye...yes father?"  
  
Priam jabbed a thick finger into my head. Grabbing my hair between his fingers, the king shook it in his daughter's direction.  
  
"Creusa. Aeneas here tells me that the two of you are in love and desire to be married. Is this true, or is this runt lying?"  
  
Creusa looked at me helplessly, her light eyes watering. I did not protest as my hair was pulled. It hurt, yet the pain was nothing compared to what I felt for Creusa. I almost wished I did not approach Priam, simply because I could not bare the sight of her tears. I felt terrible. From her mouth, slightly agape, Creusa's soft voice whispered, ashamed.  
  
"He does not lie, father. Yes, I love him"  
  
Priam shoved my head away, his eyes clouding over with disbelief.  
  
"Then why was I not informed of this 'union' before? Do you not know Diomedes will be here to finalise the agreements tomorrow? Why did you agree to his proposal anyway? What madness had possessed you then?"  
  
"It was no madness, father. You had sealed the agreement and all I could do was agree. I would not disobey you"  
  
Priam's face softened slightly at his daughter's vow of loyalty.  
  
"Then if I tell you to marry Diomedes...?"  
  
"I will marry him"  
  
"And Aeneas...?"  
  
"He will be a forgotten memory"  
  
I felt myself sink to the ground, my limbs giving way. Creusa's words tore into my heart and left me far worse than before. I could not stop staring at her. Was I so forgettable? What of love? Did it not matter at all? I steadied myself with a shaky hand a sniffed away the forming tears.  
  
I looked up at Priam and he, in turn, looked down upon me.  
  
"I have promised her hand to Tydeus and Diomedes. With this sacred bond I have also tied the future of our two cities. Troy does not have allies on the mainland and I have been working hard for years to establish such an alliance. Aeneas, what you have told me does not sit with me well. I'm afraid I must reject-"  
  
"Father"  
  
It was the voice of Hector, finally speaking up. Priam turned to look upon his son.  
  
"Yes Hector?"  
  
"Father, Aeneas is our relative, and within him flows the sweet blood of the immortals themselves. Do you think it wise to incur the wrath of Aphrodite?"  
  
Priam paused.  
  
"I have given my word, and the word of kings is meant to be honoured above all else. Creusa will be married to Diomedes"  
  
Priam pulled up his robe and made to move past me but I, in my pain, grasped the old king's leg. Pathetic and insulted, I wept as I clung to the robes.  
  
"Please, your highness, I love her"  
  
My pitiable imploring did nothing to sway the king's favour. Pushing me away with his a whack of his hand, Priam moved past a silent Creusa. My love, head bowed, had clasped her hands before her as the salty tears meandered down her lovely face.  
  
Hector knelt next to me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry, Aeneas. I'm sorry..."

* * *

**A/N:** Yes, i've taken some liberties with the story but some drama couldn't hurt....could it? I'll admit here that there is no record of Diomedes seeking Creusa's hand, but I added it anyways. It could have happened, right?

As always, some constructive criticism is nice _grins_


	7. VI

_Desist, my much-lov'd lord,'t indulge your pain; _  
_You bear no more than what the gods ordain._   
-**The Aeneid by Virgil. Book Two**

* * *

The full moon bore down into my bedroom, shedding its silvery light upon my silent bed. From the west a breeze had picked up and gusted past my still silhouette, seated upon the barren ground. With my fingers, I had traced Creusa's name over and over again upon the glowing marble. It did not seem madness at the time, yet with the frame of mind I carried, to differentiate between sanity and lunacy would have been beyond me.  
  
I cannot recall such a vivid pain as the one I felt that night. While rubbing my fingers into the marble until they grew tender, I hummed a wordless tune to myself, humming into the moonlight. Without resolve I rose and left my room, wandering aimlessly through the torch-lit hallways. Habit led me to a room deep within the inner walls of the citadel, and routine led me past the wooden doorway.  
  
"Who...who is it?"  
  
The soft female voice yawned and rose, squinting in the darkness.  
  
"Creusa?"  
  
There was a sharp intake of breath followed by a hiss.  
  
"Aeneas! What are you doing here? If father finds out..."  
  
I stood upon the threshold of the door, my face and body shrouded in shadow. Light filtered past my outline and a sliver fell upon Creusa's bed, bathing my love in warm firelight. Rising swiftly, she made haste towards me and began pushing me out.  
  
"Aeneas, you must leave. Please..."  
  
I could see her eyes watering and felt the inner pain she carried. I knew it broke her heart to banish me so. Ignoring the gentle shoves, I grabbed her by the shoulders and brought her into a hug. For a few moments she resisted, pounding against my chest and pulling at my clothes. Tears streaked down my cheeks as I held her.  
  
"I cannot leave you Creusa. For your presence has never left me"  
  
"Aeneas...please"  
  
"I love you Cree..."  
  
I felt her hot tears stain my chest as my beloved sagged against me. We stood like this for many minutes, our sniffles and tears speaking for us. At times, Creusa would cringe as if suddenly faced with a terrible fear. Clinging upon me, she'd cry out, my embrace tightening to stifle the pain. It was a while before I spoke.  
  
"I don't want it to end like this, Cree"  
  
"I cannot go against my father, my love. I'm sorry Aeneas, I am not strong enough"  
  
If possible, I squeezed even tighter. I could feel her heart beat next to mine in a lamenting rhythm only we could understand. She pulled herself up and kissed the base of my neck, leaving my skin tingling with anguish. I reached for her lips and they met with a fiery passion I never felt before. There was anguish in the way the twain met, a ironic union signifying our parting. She pulled away, placing her fingers upon my lips, pushing my hungry mouth away.  
  
"Please, Aeneas....Don't do this to me, I'll never be able to pull away. I am betrothed..."  
  
I let go reluctantly. Creusa had bowed her head and turned back to her bed, leaving me alone once again. I did not stop her this time. The strength to press my fate just wasn't in me anymore. Closing her door behind me as I left, I paused for a moment to contemplate. My thoughts were rocked by a wail of anguish from within Creusa's chambers. It was followed by the sound of muffled crying which died down as quickly as they started. I slammed my fist against the rock solid walls and sighed. Why did the fates have to be so cruel?

* * *

I found my room in the state I had left it, devoid of life itself. From this death a life emerged, a brilliant shimmer of light which manifested itself as my mother upon my bed. Opening her arms to receive me, holy Aphrodite kissed my moist eyes.  
  
"Have strength my son. This is a cruel fate those three have woven for you. Yet if you remember anything, you'll remember that nothing is written in stone. The Gods have a very personal interest in your progeny, yet they seem adamant to let the fates toy with you. And Priam should know better. He should pray he never sees the destruction love can cause "  
  
I felt anger rise within her as she stroked back my hair. I did not understand her words. I did not want to understand her words. Creusa wasn't with me anymore, nothing mattered. I just clung to her as I had done with Cree.  
  
"Mother, why have you come now, when everything's become lost to me?"  
  
"To bring hope, Aeneas. Nothing is ever lost; It is simply out of sight"  
  
"So are you going to give me Cree?"  
  
Aphrodite chuckled.  
  
"She was always yours, Aeneas..."  
  
With these words, my mother began to fade and escaped from my embrace, leaving me strangely comforted. The shimmering light filtered into the moonlight as the sound of the restless sea once again dominated my senses. Although her words brought me comfort, they also confused me. What could possibly happen tomorrow that changed everything which inevitability itself had been rushing towards?

* * *

"A great war had broken out in Hellas, my King. Thebes, home to king Laodamas who himself is takes decent from accursed Oedipus, has been besieged. Seeking to avenge their murdered fathers, the sons of the first Seven have indeed set out to sack the walled city. Amongst them is Diomedes, son of Tydeus, and his fellow brethren. In consequence, they have allied with each other and cemented these alliances with marriages..."  
  
Priam looked gravely upon the young messenger, his eyes troubled.  
  
"What are you implying, Dolon?"  
  
The messenger swallowed. Sent by Priam as a spy to the courts of Greece, the slender youngster still hadn't mustered the art of assertion.  
  
"I do not imply, your majesty. Diomedes has married as well"  
  
There was a collective gasp followed by a few sighs of relief. The court soon broke out into excited whispers as Priam contemplated the insult his honour had just received. Standing next to me, a sixteen year old Henicea squeezed my arm. Along with her, the members of Hecuba's family exchanged triumphant glances and a few even winked my way.  
  
I did not know what to feel. Numb inside, I stood mute, trying to understand the enormity of what was happening. Creusa felt the same way. Trembling from head to toe next to her father, my love looked as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her slender shoulders. All eyes seemed to shift between myself and her, understanding our feelings.  
  
Priam, in wrath, suddenly turned upon me.  
  
"You!"  
  
Suddenly jolted, I looked up at the king who dismounted from his throne.  
  
"My King?"  
  
Priam came to stand before me, his eyes burning with hateful anger. The whole throne room suddenly hushed to witness Priam's wrath upon the son of Anchises.  
  
"You! You and your scheming mother have brought this upon Troy! Yesterday I was guaranteed a friendship with the Greeks and today, you and Aphrodite have conspired to strip me of any honour I had left. You are a bane to my Kingdom, Aeneas! This misfortune will cost me the Aegean. Because of you, a two bit Prince has rejected my daughter and slapped my face with insult"  
  
"My mother does not incite war, Priam"  
  
Priam, surprised by my words, grabbed my linen toga.  
  
"You will refer to me as, 'Your Majesty', Aeneas. But then again, I had almost forgotten your cunning for a moment. You use your weakness to mask your growing ambition; the ambition to rule from my throne!"  
  
The court, if possible, gasped louder. Hector, who stood silent near the throne, came to his father.  
  
"Father! It does not become you to act this way. Leave Aeneas alone, please. He's already heartbroken, do not accuse him of being nefarious as well. All he desired was Creusa's hand in marriage. Do not hate him for that"  
  
Priam seemed to shrink back at his son's touch. His eyes suddenly dulled and he seemed weary.  
  
"You're right, Hector. I must still be seething at him for yesterday"  
  
Turning back to me, Priam sighed.  
  
"Forgive me, Aeneas. I did not mean what I said"  
  
He bowed slightly next to my ear and whispered.  
  
"But do not think for a second I do not know of your hidden agenda. I still feel nothing for you, Trojan Bane. Whatever I do now will be done because I know of your Mother and her influence. I must keep the gods appeased"  
  
Turning once again to the court, Priam, with a smile, proclaimed.  
  
"Come then, let us enjoin these two in blissful matrimony!"  
  
Grasping my hand and leading me to his daughter, Priam put Creusa's slender hand into mine and clasped mine shut over it.  
  
"There. It is done. Call your father boy, have him prepare a dowry"

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all those reviews guys! Though this chapter might be smaller than usual, I think it's somewhat important. In other news, I think I'll skip a few years and get to the interesting stuff next time. I also think I'll explain a few holes which seem to puncture this tale. Added to that, I seems to get this urge that we need to start seeing faces we love and hate (and how they interact with our lead). 

P.S- I might decide to revamp this story a bit, so dont be too distraught of you see stuff askew.


	8. VII

* * *

"_Cry, Trojans, cry!_  
_Lend me ten thousand eyes,_  
_And I will fill them with prophetic tears"_  
-**Cassandra (William Shakespeare's Troilus and Cressida)**  
**  
**

* * *

********

I awoke to find flecks of sunlight playing merrily upon my face. Streaming through the light drapes, the rays illuminated the quiet room and gave life unto to a darkened hallow. It was a good day, I mused as my eyes opened to the world. I sighed, content with my life and turned my attention to my bed mate. Asleep and in peace, Creusa looked like a goddess unblemished and pure. Running a finger across her smooth arm, I dipped my head to kiss the pale brow. She stirred for a moment and buried her face in my chest, the golden locks of silken hair adorning my neck and shoulders. Soon her eyes fluttered open and Creusa gave me the most wonderful smile I had ever seen.

"Good morning"

She yawned and draped her arms around my waist. Snuggling in, she kissed my throat until I squirmed. Creusa let out a peal of silvery laughter and punched me lightly as I began to tickle her midsection. She gasped and broke into a giggle.

"Hey! Not fair! Aeneas, stop!"

"What do you mean 'not fair'? You started it!"

Creusa squirmed and eventually came to land on my chest, pouting.

"You deserved it"

I grinned and pulled her under me, kissing her full on the lips. She kissed back with equal passion and enfolded me in her embrace. We continued like this for a while, until my wife pushed me away and rose from the bed, he slender legs dangling over the side of the oaken cot.

"You know, Aeneas, two years ago, I could have only dreamt of this day. I really thought I had lost you"

I slid next to her and she laid her head upon my shoulder. Wrapping my arms around her, we stared past the billowing drapes into the distant Aegean.

"Creusa?"

"Yes, My Lord?"

"Promise never to leave me alone. Promise to stay with me until my last breath escapes me. Promise me you'll never let me wander blind and without guide through this world. Promise me-"

I felt the onset of tears and realised that my deepest fear was letting go of the one person who mattered most to me. I had realised then how much I loved her and how much she meant to me. Without Creusa, I was an empty shell. She placed a nimble finger upon my lips and took my hand into hers. I looked down at the clasped hands and saw how much larger mine's were. Yet ironically, it was I who needed security.

"I know your fear, Aeneas and I feel it too. I cannot bear to see you out of my sight for a moment lest you be lost to me once again. I cannot close my eyes at night fearing that I shall awaken to find that our bliss was a dream. Yet I also cannot open my eyes once asleep for if this is really is a dream, I do not want it to end. I love you Aeneas. And as long as I live in your heart, I am with you..."

In the distance a trumpet blared and a roar arose from Troy. Kissing my hand, Creusa rose and dressed. Moving fluidly across our chambers, she deftly tidied the room and headed for the door.

"But enough of our fears, My Lord. I must go and see to our breakfast so you better ready yourself. Today my father holds his games and a day like today is not one to spend in mourning"

I wonder now if Creusa ever realised how truly mistaken she was.

Creusa left me in a silence which soon became unbearable. I sighed and moved towards the balcony, looking over the splendour of Troy.

Decorated like a new bride, Troy was practically blossoming before my eyes. The streets were lined with flowers and many buildings hung purple drapes to accentuate the regal standing of Priam's city. The mighty gates were flung open and a steady stream of athletes flowed through them. Tossing petals of the most fragrant flowers, young girls lined the broad walkways welcoming all who entered. Music played upon every street and many performers, hired for the ceremonies, entertained the gathering crowds.

There was jubilation and there was joy. There was a blissful union in the games, a joining of all peoples wanting to congregate in peace and prosperity. Glittering like a flawless gem, the jewel of the Aegean shone like a beacon for hope in the world, its gaming complex the envy of Olympia.

Attracting far more competitors and awarding actual prizes to the winners, Trojan games set the standard for athletic competition around the budding Mediterranean. Although the Hellenes had their own games at Olympia, they paled in comparison to what Troy celebrated every three years.

Yes, today was a good day, I had thought. Everything was right in my world. Taking leave from the balcony, I headed into the room and donned my robe.

It might have been just in time, for soon Cassandra burst through my doors, crying. She was followed by her maid who wrung her hands in worry.

"My Lord Aeneas. The Princess is terribly distressed"

Tearing across the marble floors, Cassandra's tiny form grabbed me by the shoulders and shook violently.

"Troy burns today, Aeneas! Troy burns!"

I looked at her, more in shock than anything else. Her hair was wild and there were red scars on her face. I guessed she had been tearing at herself with fingernails. Even her gown, once a brilliant scarlet, was in mere tatters. It took time for me to come out of the stunned state I was in.

"What's wrong Cassandra!?"

I felt my voice rise, surprised. She continued to pull at my robe and dug her nails deep into my shoulders.

"They won't listen to me, Aeneas! Tell them to close the gates and bar all competitors! Troy burns! The fire bringer descends on the city today and we are lost, all is lost! Tell them to listen!"

She sagged against me and whimpered. Gazing up at me with her luminous purple eyes, she pleaded.

"No one heeds my call, Aeneas. But you'll listen, right? You'll tell everyone to stop the games. I know you trust me. You know I've never told a lie. Tell them Aeneas. Please tell them...my, my innocence..."

Tears streamed down her lovely face and a terrible fear was inherent in her eyes. Trembling against me, Cassandra's frail form soon felt limp against my chest and she slumped towards the floor. The diminutive princess landed in a heap, and soon, was barely conscious.

I knelt low and placed a hand upon her brow. Checking to make sure she wasn't running a high fever, I lifted her to my bed and let her rest upon it's warmth. For years, Cassandra's latent talent had developed unbeknownst to most of the court and even though her twin was now famous for his prophecies, the true flair for foresight rested with Cassandra.

As the nurse dashed away to gather help, I sat next to Cassandra's unconscious form and sighed.

Was I the only one who was inclined to believe her? Did everyone, while paying their reverence to Helenus, forget that Cassandra also spoke of the future? It baffled me to know end when I saw the two speaking the same words, yet everyone seemed to only show disdain towards the little soothsayer. Was she mad like they claimed? Or was she really the wisest amongst us all? These questions shook me deeply and a feeling the gods were at work.

What could Cassandra possibly tell us that the ones above wanted to keep secret?

Stroking her forehead as she slowly regained consciousness, I smiled when her eyes fluttered open to look directly into my own.

"You do believe me..."

There was an awe in her voice, an astonishment and thanks.

"I never said otherwise..."

She sat up and leaned against the bed frame. Looking at me with her luminous violet eyes, her gaze bore into my soul and arose a deep unease in my chest. Her eyes, like liquid fire, held my gaze and wouldn't let me look away.

"So you're going to tell father to stop the games, right?"

I sighed and pulled away from her gaze.

"No"

She was silent for a moment and then rose from my bed. Turning to look at me, all I saw was disappointment. She saw me as weak and powerless, much like herself. After finding perhaps the only one who'd listen to her, Cassandra instead found a soul like herself; incapable of changing the world around him.

"You know, for a moment I thought we'd be able to stop what will now happen. But Alas, what will be will be. If only I were born blind to what I see..."

She hurried out of my room, tears beginning to stream down her lovely face once again. Her words tore into me and left a guilt which bled from within. Sighing, I rose and followed her to the door.

"Cassandra...I didn't mean-"

"Just...just leave me alone, Aeneas. I really don't need your sympathy"

With that said, she scampered across the hallway towards her own chambers. I had half a mind to follow her, if it wasn't for Hecuba running from the opposite end of the hallway. Tearing past me with the briefest of worried nods, she followed the little princess into her room and disappeared behind it's wooden threshold.

* * *

I was shaken by what had happened and couldn't bring myself to pass off her words as symptoms of madness. Trudging down the hallway with steps slow and nervous, I made my way to the dinning hall where the members of Priam's family had gathered to enjoy breakfast. All of his forty-nine sons sat around a massive horseshoe table with his thirty daughters and their husbands. It was chaos, as the servants ran from table to table, depositing cheeses and meats before each occupant. I saw Creusa seated apart from them all, two empty chairs on her side. Her head snapped up as I entered and as of yet, she hadn't touched her food.

"My Lord"

She called me over and I came to sit next to my wife, the aura of serenity around her bathing me with calm. All anxiety about Cassandra faded away as Creusa slipped her fingers into my palm and squeezed. Lifting my hand to her lips, she kissed the back of my wrist with a tenderness that sent a shudder down my spine.

"You seem worried, Aeneas. What is it?"

I ran a hand over my face as a servant heaped steaming broth into my bowl. Looking past her into the direction of Cassandra's room, I sighed deeply, turning her hand around to place my own lips upon her palm.

"It's Cassandra. She been acting-"

"Mad? I know, Aeneas and it distresses me. Ever since she returned from Apollo's temple a few nights back, her hallucinations seem to have gotten more violent. I cannot possible imagine what has gotten into her"

"They aren't hallucinations"

Creusa seemed perplexed.

"You don't seriously believe her? Do you?"

I took a sip of my porridge. Finding it too hot for my tastes, I blew on the scalding mixture until it cooled. Looking at Creusa as I sipped, I could feel my brow crease.

"I have no reason not to believe her. If Helenus can see into the future, so can she. I do not see why everyone calls her mad when all she does is-"

"Oh try to use reason Aeneas. You know all she speaks about is impending doom, and I for one cannot see what the fuss is about. Today we celebrate the greatest games the world has ever seen. They testify to Troy's prominence over the Aegean. And unless the gods will against it, we shall live like this for centuries to come"

"It is the gods who scare me, Creusa. I do not think the Troad is in their best interests"

She slapped my cheek in a most mocking manner.

"Oh do hush, Aeneas. Such things should not even be thought of."

I had an answer for her, I really did. It was just the unexpected presence of Hector and Deiphobus which stopped my thoughts and forced me to concentrate on them. Dressed immaculately in their armour, the two towered over my wife and I, beaming.

"So his highness has finally awaken has he? For a second we thought you weren't participating..."

It was the powerful voice of Hector. He clasped my shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze. Deiphobus laughed and slapped my back as well. Irritated, I looked up at them, no trace of humour upon my face.

"I am not competing"

"WHAT!?"

They bellowed their reply in unison and the whole hall fell into a dead silence. A sudden flush had come over my cheek as the two warriors gazed upon me, mystified. There was a second of silence before I was barraged with a tide of inquiries.

"What do you mean 'not competing'?"

"Yeah. How can you not compete? You're a definite win for the horse races"

I sighed.

"You guys, I just don't feel like it"

Hector sat down next to me and placed a hand on my forehead. The powerful warrior was genuinely concerned.

"Are you feeling sick, Aeneas?"

"No. Its just-"

Creusa gave Hector's hand a swat and pushed him away from me. Rising, she centred her diminutive form between her brothers and blocked their access to my person. There was a seriousness on her face I had seen before and the two brothers suddenly shrank back. Creusa's wrath was well known throughout the palace, and not many would dare confront her, even if she stand a tiny five feet.

"Back! Back away you two. Leave him alone. If he says he's not competing, your questioning wont make him change his mind"

There was a slight pause as the two brothers lingered.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Let him eat in peace!"

It wasn't until she physically pushed them away that the two left. Turning to face me, she dipped her head low and placed a kiss upon my forehead.

"Now, you eat in peace while I get ready for the ceremonies. It would be wise if you joined us too, Aeneas. Everyone will be there and maybe your heart will lighten upon seeing the cheer and jubilance of a city's pride"

I swallowed and agreed. Giving me another kiss upon my forehead, she swept past me.

"Oh, Creusa?"

"Yes Aeneas?"

"Check on Cassandra please. I'm really worried about her"

A warm smile spread across Creusa's loving face as she nodded her consent. I turned back to my breakfast as the daughters of Priam concluded their meals and headed, like Creusa, deep into their chambers. Every four years, just like this, there was a private competition between the princesses. The basis was beauty and the prize usually included a young athlete's love. I smiled and shook my head, not knowing that Hector and Deiphobus had not left completely.

As Creusa had cleared out, the two moved in to come sit before me.

I looked up to see each grinning broadly and sighed.

"I haven't changed my mind, gentlemen"

It was Deiphobus who spoke first.

"You cannot afford to not compete, brother-mine. This year is slotted to be the best Troy has ever seen. The bounty is rich and the people are happy. It would be Troy's honour if you competed and took home the top prize. Think about it Aeneas, you know you're the best at the Horse races and can easily beat whatever Asia Minor and Hellas have in store"

Hector simply nodded. I shook my head.

"I have no personal skill with horses. You know that. If my mount weren't of divine breeding, I would cross the line last. I find it unfair to pitch godly steeds with mere thoroughbreds"

"Aeneas, you really don't give yourself enough credit. Modesty is good and all, but going out and claiming what is yours is what makes a man memorable. Plus, your goddess born. I fail to see how you cannot have some traits superior to most men"

Again, I shook my head, the bitterness returning to my mouth.

"Please, stop. I haven't seen my mother in two years and I reckon she's forgotten me. I do not doubt she's off igniting love in some breast and ruining a nation because of it. I apparently fall on her list of things to do when terribly bored"

"I still don't see how that makes you any less her son"

"Hector, please. I really don't want to talk about this anymore"

The heir to Troy's throne raised his hands in defeat.

"Ok, I give up. So, one last time. You're not competing, right?"

"Yes. Happy?"

"No, not particularly"

There was a sour smile upon his face, and Deiphobus seemed disappointed. The two rose silently and left, leaving me alone in the now empty room.

I looked down at my porridge and saw that it had turned cold. The sad thing was, I had only eaten a few spoonfuls. Pushing the bowl away, I arose from the seat and headed back into my chambers, praying that there would be no further tension in the day's unfolding.

As usual, I would be wrong.

* * *

A/N: Ok, I would like to take the time to thank all my excellent reviewers. You guys are great, you know that? I would also like to take the time to address some concerns/comments/ect.

Scorpio- Heh. I couldn't believe how I twisted that story out. :D

Ani- Umm, to tell you this or not to tell you this? The Aeneid takes place after Troy happens and all that is ever told of the city is it's downfall. Very little is spoken of Aeneas's past and the events that led to his marriage with Creusa. The story is more about looking forward (To Rome), than it is looking back (To Troy)

TrojanPrincess- I always thought the two had a special relationship too. I'll try to develop that a bit more as the story goes on (As I've started to above)

Konrad- Yes, the Greek names are the ones I use anyways (in Real Life) so they naturally flow onto the page that way. Plus, Minerva and Juno are two names I never got used to.

Hildegard- Ditto on the age statistic. Again, I cant bring myself to write about underage kids. As you might have noticed, I corrected the tunic fabric in the last chapter.

Maria- Hector Jealous? Is that the way he comes off? I never noticed. I personally think Hector is the greatest guy in History. It just a pity how his name came to mean 'bully' in the English language. If anything, it should have been 'Achilles' or 'Ajax'...or something.

Psyche- Those names are familiar. Where have I seen them before? Thanks for the compliments.

Once again, I thank all of you. And as usual, more reviews boost my ego winks. Next update, my little tribute to the Olympic Games Trojan Style Grins


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